Ten Unrelated Moments
by Peanutbutter1
Summary: So I saw all those Ipod challenge fics and thought I would try it out. This is only my second Glee fic but I got a pretty good response from the first so hopefully this will too.All the drabbles are unrelated and completely in their own universe.Puck/Rach


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee. How sad for me.

**By:** Peanutbutter

**Author's note:** I wrote this for the Ipod shuffle. It was hard. I don't like writing short stories. You'll notice that most of the drabbles are a little too long to be drabbles. Oh well. I tried and it was hard. So read and hopefully enjoy. There are probably a few mistakes. I read over it, tried to fix them, but I always miss a few. Also none of these drabbles are related. They are all their own universe.

* * *

**Over My Head – The Fray**

He expected High School to be lame. He expected to fall asleep in English class to, to skip math, to coast through his High School career with one eye open and covered in bruises from football, but he didn't expect Quinn. He didn't expect to care, not about his grades or just what he was going to do after school. He had only ever thought about getting out, about getting himself out, but then there was her, and his daughter and suddenly everything was really fucked up and he was in way over his head.

He expected to be distracted during the big game. He was after all being glared at by his teammates by his baby momma, but the stupid gleeks, by his best friend and then there was the fact that he was supposed to be playing the best game of his life, eight seconds, eight seconds to a win or a loss He expected to love the thrill, the pressure, the adrenaline, but he didn't expect the way his heart was racing or that he felt like punching everyone whose eye was on him or that for once, and only this once he felt like running away and abandoning his badass persona for a few seconds of peace.

He expected to be followed off the field, chased even, perhaps with cheerleaders throwing themselves at his feet begging him to come back, maybe even his best friend groveling at his feet, but he didn't expect her. Not in any of his fantasies did he expect to see Rachel Berry running after him, calling his name. He had no idea she even came to football games. He had no idea she ever did anything but watch musicals, but there she was, waiting, watching. Her brow was furrowed when he finally stopped to look at her. She was biting her lip. The way her teeth worried her lip was something he could watch for hours.

He didn't expect he'd ever date Rachel Berry, but he had. He didn't expect to be a father at seventeen, but he was going to be. He didn't expect for his best friend to hate him, not Finn, Finn didn't hate anyone. He didn't expect to care just what happened to the High School's Glee club especially more than he cared about the football team, more than he cared about a kicking weekend beer bash, or even his never ending love of dip, but he did. He especially didn't expect her to mean anything to him at all, but looking at her as she watched him worry etched on her face her hands clasped behind her back he felt himself hesitate. She wasn't glaring, or yelling, or demanding. For once she wasn't saying anything at all and he was just breathing, just staring, and she looked, was just....

He expected to have a hot girlfriend. He was, after all, a stud. He expected his girlfriend to think about him all the time, fantasize, to put out, to walk on his arm and give him just what he wanted. He didn't expect to care, or to love the way her hair felt against his finger tips as he pulled it gently to the right, angling her head, so he could trace her jaw with his eyes, press his lips to her neck. He didn't expect to crave the sound of her voice instead of the feel of her body.

He didn't expect he'd ever get past Quinn giving his little girl away, or the fact that he quit football, quit glee, quit school, quit life, but she hadn't been a factor at first. He didn't expect Rachel Berry to pull him back to himself, not from their first connection at the football game where it all came crashing down on him and he pulled her off the wall and to him, kissing her because there was no one else. She gasped, pulled, before allowing and it was enough, then, to keep him breathing. At least he wasn't hated by everyone, but everyone already hated her. She knew just how it felt.

He didn't expect to love her, not Rachel Berry, but he did. He expected to always land on his feet, but until Rachel came along he was floating just under the surface, gasping, grabbing, hoping as the water slapped over his fingers and refused to let his face break. She brought him to the surface, breathed life into devastation, and there wasn't a moment that she wasn't one his mind.

* * *

**Simple Man - Shinedown**

His mother sat him down the day after his father left, the day he was expelled from school and tried to explain to him why his father was gone. Noah hadn't wanted to listen, not then, and not now. His father had never really been there for him, but at ten he didn't want to believe that. He just wanted his father to come back, so she tried to tell him that his actions spoke of who he was and that if he wanted to be a good man there was a few things he needed to work on. He was ashamed, now, that he'd flipped her off and pulled out of her hug, ignored her tears, told her to leave him alone and ran down the street. He needed, at the time, to get away from her, away from her words. He just wanted his father back.

It wasn't until he heard that Quinn was pregnant that he thought back on her words. He thought of what kind of man his father was and what kind he wanted to be. He tried to change for her, or his daughter, for the woman he loved, but he'd waited too long. Quinn faded from his graces and his daughter with her. Then there was nothing and he was left floundering, wondering what he had been trying to be and who for.

It was too late for Quinn, for his daughter. She belonged to someone else. The both of them. So the love his mother had talked about, the God, the simple man she had encouraged him to be was lost to him until Rachel Berry put her hand in his at the hospital. Everyone else was gone. Quinn and Finn where cuddling on the bed. Quinn was crying, Finn was drying her tears and he had no where to go. He wanted to watch his little girl, but she wasn't his to watch, so he sat in the waiting room. Rachel sank into the chair beside him and spoke quietly, soothingly, her fingers were warm when they settled in his palm and he couldn't help the way his hand closed around hers. In the waiting room his hand wrapped in Rachel's he wondered if that man, the man he had been trying to be, was still possible, because, just maybe, he could be that man for Rachel.

* * *

**My Little Girl – Tim McGraw**

Raising her was hell. He was up all night every night feeding her, changing her, singing her to sleep and after all that he was off to school, then to work. He was exhausted when he walked through the door at the end of the day and Quinn was silent, wide eyed, and tired. They tried to love each other, for Sarah, to be her family, but you can't force love. He loved Quinn, he loved Sarah, but he wasn't in love with Quinn. He never would be. They split that first year and watching her move in with Finn two years later, his baby girl with her, was like swallowing a knife. If it hadn't been for Rachel he would have gone crazy.

Dropping her off to her first day of school was impossible. She didn't want to stay. He had to pry her fingers off his and force himself to leave. He may have been a badass but one bat of his baby's eyes, full of tears, and a quivering lip and he was fighting tears. He didn't want to make her cry. If it wasn't for Rachel, strong and logical she would have eaten pudding for breakfast and never touched a piece of 'icky' broccoli.

In a whirlwind she was in High School. She didn't climb into his lap anymore. He couldn't hold her away from the world and when she was hurt she wouldn't come to him, not about boys, not since he punched her date out on the porch. He was just lucky they didn't press charges. Rachel took it well, smiling, through her stern face, but Sarah took it like her mother would have. She wailed that Noah had ruined her life. For the first time she told him she hated him. He felt like he'd been punched in the face.

She did forgive him, eventually and again she sped though life and he was taking her to college, Rachel was pregnant with their second and still trying to pick up boxes and carry them into the dorm. His son, the devil himself was running around his legs screams for no particular reason while his sister hissed at him to 'shut it'. Quinn was fluttering around Sarah's shoulders, whispering just where she should put her things. Finn was nailing a few shelves to her wall just above her bed. It was chaos and he wouldn't have known what to do without it.

He took the box from Rachel's hands, ignoring her face, grabbed his son by his overalls and lifted him off his feet, his three year old legs pumping in a futile effort to be released, but he stopped screaming. He tossed the little boy upward making him squeal in delight before landing on Noah's hip his hands around his Dad's neck. Noah leaned toward Sarah nudging Quinn out of the way with his hip and kissed her on the cheek. He told her he loved her, was proud of her, and forced everyone to leave. The protested, shook their heads, complained, but Sarah, his doll, just smiled and whispered a thank you as he shut the door leaving her to her life, one she deserved to live.

It was too much longer before she brought _him _home. The home wrecker, the delinquent going by the name of Sam. Sam smiled, made Rachel laugh, made Sarah smile, his son, Micheal, and his other daughter Leah giggled. They all loved him. Noah hated him, but he didn't say it. When he asked for her hand in marriage he almost said no, but he remembered his daughter, the smile and he couldn't say anything but yes.

It was hard to watch her get married, to realize that she was grown up. He felt like he'd just brought her home, just pushed her into kindergarten, given her her first driving lesson, dried her first wave of High School drama tears, told her he was always be there for her. He still would, but Sam would have to take up that responsibility. He wasn't quite ready to let it go. She was his little girl, beautiful baby from the outside in. She had taken on the world and lived it, loved it, and now he needed to let her go.

He walked her down the isle, gave her away, not without a glare, and sat by Rachel, taking her hand, pulling Micheal into his lap and Leah against his other side. He was a badass, yeah, but he wasn't ready to let anymore of his family go, not for a while.

* * *

**Just A Dream – Carrie Underwood**

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Rachel pulled her fingers into her lap, twisting the diamond ring around her fingers and tried to push the heat that warmed her face away. It was going to make her skin splotchy and she couldn't have that, not today, not now. She had a performance to give, tears would make her voice crack, her nose would clog, it would ruin everything. She couldn't afford for that to happen, not today.

"Rachel, honey,"

It's her father, leaning over her, his hand on her shoulder, but she can barely feel it. Does that mean she's sleeping, that this is a dream, a terrible, terrible dream? She lifts her head to see his face, blinking, pushing bleary eyes to clear. He's there smiling wanly, warmly, too real. She swallows heat rushing her face her throat burns. She doesn't want to be awake, not if this is how it ends. She wants to go back to sleep to wake up to another life, another day. Noah can't be gone. She can still feel him when she sleeps at night, his weight on her pillow, his warmth at her back.

"Baby, we have to go now."

Baby, he called her Baby, babe, sweetheart, his fingers were always on her, touching, coaxing, loving. She shrugs out of her father's grip. She can't take it not when he's gone. He was supposed to come home. He was supposed to be fine.

"I just," she swallows and steps toward the bathroom, "I just need to fix my makeup."

"Rachel, sweetie, we don't have..." he starts but she shakes her head.

"No, I'm fine, I just, I'll just be a minute, okay, just a minute." She can't stop touching the ring. The ring he gave her before he climbed onto the bus that rushed him off to boot camp. The other, the flat white gold band, was from their wedding; the day she walked down the isle and took him to death do they part. She didn't expect it to be so soon that she'd be saying goodbye. They had a plan. She'd made a chart, it was color coded and ridiculous, but they weren't even into the purple stage yet. Purple was kids and a new house. Purple was no more military, duty served, school done. Purple was the best part.

They'd stopped in Red. Red was hard. Red was her waiting for him to get done with his tour of duty. Red wasn't supposed to last much longer. It was over on the tenth. She cooked a meal, bought sexy underwear for him to take off her. Red was over four days ago and suddenly she was in Orange, Orange wasn't supposed to happen for years and years and they were supposed to die together, in their sleep. She'd made him promise. He'd promised.

Rachel slammed the bathroom door, breathing deeply her fingers balled into fists and pressed against the sink. Her entire body was shaking. How was she supposed to sing for him when she couldn't breath. He wasn't supposed to be gone. Her knees quivered and she sank to the floor.

"Oh, God," she gasped as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I can't," she shook her head her mouth open but no sound escaped. She couldn't do this. She couldn't breathe.

Somebody stopped her from hitting the bathroom floor, strong arms that reminded her of Noah but were no where near the right size. He squeezed her, pressed her close his mouth close to the crown of her head, whispering. In High School she would have loved to be in his arms, but now Finn Hudson, nice as he was, just wasn't enough.

"It's okay," he soothed holding her close. "It'll be alright."

She knew it wouldn't. Not for a long time.

"Quinn, Quinn get in here!"

There's scrambling, voices, rushing, and all of it is too much for her to process. It isn't long before she's sitting on the toilet, Finn is still there, standing at her side, Quinn is in front of her patting her cheeks, rubbing the mascara off her face. She should have worn water proof, but she was hoping to be strong. To keep the tears at bay to save her face, but she didn't really count on not caring.

"I don't think I can do this." She didn't recognize her own voice.

"You can." Quinn took her face in her hands hold her still, forcing her to look at the blond. "We got through sectionals, didn't we, and we all hated each other. We can get through this. We'll do it together."

"You'll sing with me?" She can't help the way her voice breaks. It's still hard to believe she has friends even after all this time. Even after Noah. She feels her eyes welling again. "I can't, I can't look like this." She shakes her head takes a tissue from Finn. "I want to look perfect, for him, when I," she looks at Finn and back to Quinn, "we, when we sing for him."

Quinn takes her hand her fingers wrapping around her own before she reaches for Finn. They stand, connected for a moment. "I'll take care of that and we'll go together." Finn nods.

"You're not alone."

She makes it though the song, because Quinn and Finn are there, and Artie, and Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, Mike, Matt, even Santana, and Brittany, and of course Mr. Shue. When they hand her the flag, neatly folded she takes a breath and when they start to lower him into the ground she rocks forward, but Kurt's hand on her shoulder pushes her back. He pulls her close and holds her when she pitches toward him. He doesn't even complain when her tears soak his suit. Somebody rubs her back, touches her head. Her fathers stand just to the side, her mother in law whispering, her sister in law crying. It's too much to think about, but at least she isn't alone.

Rachel watched the sight until the last bit of dirt was laid on top, hoping, praying, begging, that it was just a dream.

* * *

**Ghost of Me – Daughtry**

Sometimes she'd give him this look, her head cocked to the side, eyes wide. It's like just his presence surprises her. Irritatingly enough it's usually when he does something nice. Like the slushie. Sure usually he threw them instead of giving them, but really he hadn't thrown one in a while and he was trying, dammit.

That one he could forgive, but after that when he offered her his jacket while they were waiting for the bus to take them to sectionals. She was wearing her usual tiny skirt and tiny shirt, but her coat was thin and hardly functional so he offered her his coat and her eyes and nearly fallen out of her head her mouth, unbecoming while she impersonated a train tunnel. He told her to shurt her trap before he changed his mind. She took the coat, closing her mouth quickly. She thanked him just as swiftly and he shoved his hand in his pockets and tried to think warm thoughts. It was fucking cold and he'd given his coat away. He was a fucking idiot.

It wasn't just that he gave her his coat. He told her she did a good job. When they won sectionals he was happy, happier than a badass really had the right to be, but he could blame it on everyone else. When everyone was jumping up and down, screaming, smiling, it was hard not to join in and when he hugged Rachel and kinda kissed her on the mouth he rolled away pretending it was an accident. He kissed Brittany too, just to prove a point, though it was only on her cheek. Rachel he'd hit dead center in the mouth. She gave him that look again.

It took him a while to figure out just what was shocking the diva right off her high horse. Rachel had a perception, of him, one that didn't include him being generous in any way, especially after he told her they weren't friends. Yeah he'd said it, but it didn't mean anything, not really. He'd been pissed. He said a lot of things when he was pissed. He didn't want to be her friend not then, but it didn't mean he was going to go back to being a dick. He was different, kind of. He'd stopped throwing kids in the trash. That was growth.

The Puck she was seeing was a ghost. He didn't exist anymore. He was different and for some reason it was important to him that she see that. It was a hard point to sell, especially when it came out that he'd slept with Finn's girl, that the baby was his, but he was determined. Rachel Berry would accept that he was capable of being a nice guy even if he had to kick it down her throat, though he was evolved enough to know that doing that literally wouldn't accomplish much. See, growth. He was becoming a grown up or some shit like that. Dude he was badass, nothing was out of his grasp not even emotional maturity.

* * *

**Shimmer- Fuel**

He knows that she's going to call. She always does, when the last leaf falls, when the sky has taken on the permanent, depressing, shade of gray. The air is always heavy like the snow is just waiting for a chance to fall and soon it won't be able to hold out anymore. The world will be blanketed in white and that woodsy smell that he associates with winter with never leave him, not until the first sprigs of spring's green grass shoot up, but its now that matters. The heavy air unrealized, her call hanging in the balance.

He has no way of knowing whether or not he is the only one she calls. He could be the last or maybe the only smuck up picks up the phone, or he could be the first in a line of yearly calls.

'How are you?'

'How is life, Sarah, school, job?'

The questions are pointless, so pointless that he wonders just what is behind her phone calls. What does she want from him? She left, her matching, perfect, pink luggage loaded on top of her graduation Prius that she'd probably never drive. He stayed, but it wasn't even a question. Sarah was in Lima. He had school, in Lima. He had a life and she, well she had life in New York. It was simple.

He'd almost told her, in a moment of complete idiocy, that he loved her. He was wrapped up in her body, her lips, the way her skin slid against his own, the way his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He'd never felt that, not with anybody he'd brought to his bed and he'd never expected to feel it for Rachel Berry, but he did, or thought he had.

Their time together was brief and though he fell hard, for her words, her lips, her dreams he knew that she was somebody he could never have. They fell together in a moment of lonely solace that never stopped, not until the end of senior year when he, ridiculously in love, listened to her spout off about New York. It shattered his world.

She lived in a dream a world, one of champagne dreams, and a perfectly crisp white life, like linens ironed and laid on a bed no one would ever touch. She didn't believe in love anymore. Love would drag her down. Love was for fools that fell behind in life. Noah, he didn't know what to believe. His heart ached for her, soared for her touch, but did he love her? Probably not. She would be there, right, if she loved him, if he really loved her? It's hard to explain, somewhere between cynical and denial. All he knows is that she's too far away, too far way for him to hold, to love, to possibly consider. So he doesn't, at least he doesn't until she calls.

The phone rings and he reaches for it, glancing at the screen. Her names flashes to light. He considers not answering. He does anyway, his thumb flicking the lid on his phone upward. He's silent for a moment before he forces himself to speak. Outside he can see the sky darkening. The snow is going to come early this year.

"Hello?"

"Noah, hey, it's Rachel."

Her voice is like honey, sweet dripping, and thick. He wants to taste her, hear her in person. He hates himself for still wanting every part of her.

"Hey Rach," he swallows because he doesn't know what to say. Will they ever be friends? Will they ever be anything more.

"I haven't heard from you in a while."

A year, it's always a year, but he doesn't call her, so it's not hard to believe. "Yeah, a year. How are you?"

She's silent for a moment. "Noah, I," she pauses, stutters before clearing her throat. "Are you okay with me calling? I mean we're friends right?"

His answer is almost immediate. "Sure." He says because he doesn't want to tell her no, besides he doesn't really know the answer to that.

"Okay," she breathes, heavy. He remembers her breath on his neck. His eyes close for a moment. "It's really good to hear your voice."

"Yeah, it's been too long."

Will they ever be again? Whatever they were it was something he can't let go of. He wants to be her friend, but he doesn't. He wants to love her, but he doesn't know how. He wants to hold her but she's too far away. He sighs.

She launches into a telling of her year, her new play, her school show case. The way her voice his improved. How good it is to be around people who share her passion for music. He tells her about Ohio State, about football, about classes, about Sarah, she's four now. He tells her about Quinn, about Finn. She tells him about her new friends. He can't help but wonder if there is someone to take his place. Somebody who rubs her arms, kisses her neck, strokes her thighs, who whispers the words he used to in her ear, the words that make her shudder.

When she hangs up, hours later, he still doesn't know what they are, but he decides to let it go, for today, maybe forever, or just until she calls again.

* * *

**Hanging by a moment – Lifehouse**

She wasn't leaving. Not now, not even when he was yelling, waving his arms, cursing at her. Not even when he told her to 'fuck off'. She was standing her ground, even if it meant his verbal abuse. He was just hurt, hurt and he didn't know how to deal with it. He was angry and she, unfortunately, was all he had to yell at.

His verbal assault ended abruptly and he stalked to the end of the football field, passing the brightly painted field markers, until he was standing just under the goal, his feet planted on the 'T' of Titans. She waited for a moment forcing herself to stop crying, he didn't need her to cry, and started after him.

The field was wet and immediately her feet were soaked, her legs covered in chill bumps, but she continued toward him. He was mostly cast in shadow his hand in the pockets of his Letterman jacket. He was looking at his feet and though she had spent a good deal of time with Puck she really had no idea what he was thinking. She just knew, she thought of his creased brow the twitch of his jaw, the moisture in his eyes, that it was something bad. The air was cold enough for her to see his breaths rising just over his head and they were coming far too quickly.

It had been luck that she had been the one to find him. He'd run from the hospital so quickly that everyone was sure he was impossible to track. Finn had stayed with Quinn the rest of them had gone after Puck, at Quinn's insistence. She was shattered, chocking on tears, her pretty face splotched and red and worse yet the roundness of her stomach gone. Finn held her hand even though he hadn't touched her in months and she, ever in love with the tall quarterback, fell against him, grateful.

Was watching Finn fall back into love with Quinn hard ? Yes, but she hadn't really counted on Noah. Well to be honest, who would. He had never given any indication that he was interested in a friendship with her, not until he stopped her in the hall a few weeks after she'd spilled the true patronage of Quinn's baby. She thought he was going to yell at her. He told her, thank you, like she had done it for him, when she'd only done it for herself. He needed to know, sure, but everything that followed. She hated to think of Puck and Noah still fighting, but Finn so easily liked had made up his mind about Noah Puckerman, he was no longer worthy to be his friend, and she, it was laughable, she was ignored. Sure he talked to her, he smiled, but he talked to just about everybody, everyone but Quinn and Puck.

So why Puck was thanking her was completely out of her grasp until he told her. He'd grabbed her mumbled 'Thanks' and smiled. He told her Quinn was being a bitch about it, but he'd promised her he'd keep his yap shut. He said he could 'be a Dad now because she had a huge trap'. It was sweet kind of and also partly insulting, but that was Puck. The short encounters between the two became more frequent and when Finn refused to see what she was and Quinn refused to let Puck be the man he wanted to be they kind of fell into each other, because there didn't seem to be anyone else. It was cataclysmic, their initial and official get together. It was especially ridiculous when it was obviously done while the other dreamed, wished, begged for their partner to be another. It was bound to crash and burn, but the both of them had kept on and she was more baffled than anyone as to why it just kept on.

They didn't crash. He was an asshole. She was a diva. She was in love with Finn Hudson. He was in love with Quinn Fabray. He had a daughter on the way, he was going to be a father, and she was hopelessly tied to the threesome that was Puck/Quinn/Finn. She tried to pull away, so did he. There were times when their relationship was hanging by a moment, a word, an action, shear will, but it didn't fall despite the stacked odds. In fact Rachel started to like him, just a little, well more than just a little, and Puck, Noah when they were alone, stopped being such an unforgivable asshole.

She was right behind him, but she didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but the words seemed insufficient. She reached for him, her fingers almost brushing his back when he spoke, startling her. She jumped, covered her face, almost yelled, and was suddenly overcome with giggles. When things were this serious, when she felt too much to cry, she laughed. It was ridiculous and rude so she pushed it down, swallowed the ball of hysterical mirth and tried to listen to his words.

"I told you to leave."

"Yeah." She bit her lip. His voice, roughed to near incoherence, chased the giggles from her stomach and a knot took place of the butterflies.

"You're still here."

She swallowed. Wished he'd turn around, acknowledge her with his eyes, something more than the wide plans of his back. "I'm not going anywhere." She breathed watching his head bob downward.

"I told you to leave." He rocked back on his heels.

It hurt that he still wanted her gone.

"I can't." She breathed her voice broke even though she'd willed it not to. She was standing her ground because...

"I don't want to talk to you."

She bit her lip. Because, because she had been falling in love with him for months. Did he not notice her attention to Glee had diminished, that last week she'd skipped class to be with him? She'd messed up her perfect attendance to make out with him during English. He had to have noticed that Finn's names passed her lips less often; that she hardly looked at him anymore. Her eyes were always on Noah, always. There wasn't anything else.

"Please," she started but stopped because she was going to cry. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the sky. What did it take for him to open up to her. She wanted to help. He was suffering. She could see it in the hunch of his shoulders, the sound of his voice, the way he jammed his hands into his pockets, the way he utterly refused to speak to her.

She'd almost told him once. The time they'd almost had sex. She was willing. She wanted him. He was kissing her neck. She was topless, pants less and he was without his shirt jeans undone and pressing into her stomach. She could feel a bubble swelling in her chest. She wanted to tell him, but she was afraid. She couldn't have sex without him knowing and she couldn't take the rejection that was sure to follow. So they didn't, and she didn't, and life went on. She loved him. He didn't know and even when he was an asshole, which was frequent, she let it go, well mostly. She wouldn't be Rachel Berry if she didn't argue back.

"Rachel, I can't take this, not with Quinn, and..." he trails off sniffs. His back is still to her. He clears his throat. "I can't talk about this."

"Noah."

"Go away."

"Noah, please..."

"Go. Away."

"I just, I want to..."

"Rachel, Fuck off!"

"Noah Puckerman I love you," she stops for only a second and can't breathe. She said it. God, she had horrible timing. She wanted to take it back but it was too late. She had to forge on and then, if he still wanted her to leave, she would. "I love you and I can't stand here and see you hurting and not try to make it better! Don't you understand it hurts me too."

He's silent. She backs away a few feet but she can't make herself leave.

"I'm not leaving. Not until you make me, that is physically picking me up and throwing me off the field. I'm staying here. I'm staying behind you, or next to you, or however close you'll let me be until you leave. I won't let you be alone, not after you lost your daughter." The noise he makes in response is not a word but it's full of pain. Her chest constricts and there are tears rolling down her cheeks, clogging her nose, but she stand her ground.

He doesn't come to her, but he doesn't tell her to go away again. He stands for hours, watching the goal post, sometimes his shoulders shake, sometimes his head is in his hands. She stands with him and when her legs are screaming and she's freezing he sits in the grass. She mimics him, pulling her knees to her chest. The air around her gets more frigid. She lays her head in her lap because she'll stay all night, but she might freeze to death in the process.

She must have fallen asleep, or frozen because his jacket over her shoulders and his arm around her back startles her awake and she can barely open her eyes when he sits beside her pulling her to his chest, rubbing her arms. She thinks she might be dreaming.

"Jesus Berry, you're like frozen."

"I, I, I'm f,f,fine." She stutters through chattering teeth. "You, are y-y-you," she can't speak her tongue is too thick her stutter too pronounced.

He leans over her his head resting on the crown of her head before burying it in the crook of her neck. She pulls his sleeves over her fingers afraid to move. His sniff, loudly, his breath warms her skin. He pulls her hair away from her neck, stroking. His other hand pulls her into his lap, awkward, but warm. He starts to shake. Rachel slips her fingers from the sleeve and grabs fingers splayed across her back. Their fingers intertwine. Her skin is wet where his face is pressed.

"I didn't know." He mumbles. "I didn't know I loved her so much."

She squeezes his fingers, hoping it helps and he pulls her tighter to his chest.

* * *

**Use Somebody – Kings of Leon**

He didn't expect to run into her again. He figured after graduation he would run into Finn, he would ignore him, mostly. He would see Quinn, because she was his baby momma, and he loved his little girl. Artie, Tina, Mercedes, Matt, and Mike would pop up, but they would fade away. He didn't count on seeing them much, maybe when he came home, but he really didn't expect to run into Rachel Berry.

She literally ran into him in New York. She was running. He was walking, holding his daughter's hand, talking to her about how he used to sing in school, they'd just seen a musical. His baby girl was into Broadway. He was sure it was Glee's fault all that show tune shit had been imbedded in his daughter from conception. It didn't help that her mother talks about Glee, even works at the school with Mr. Shue on the New, New Directions. He was in the middle off something note worthy when she hit his chest his fingers let go of daughter's. She screamed. He panicked and the ball of limbs and frantic apologies couldn't seem to get off him.

Sarah was fine. She was just dramatic, like her mother. She liked to scream. She was a blond, relentless, precious drama queen, that he couldn't live without. The woman, he shoved her relentlessly to the ground to get to his screaming baby turned out to be Rachel Berry.

"It's you," is all he can say when he finally see's her.

She, for her credit, is silent.

"Uh, this is Sarah." He points at his kid, grabs her under the arms. She protests. He thrusts her in front of him like a shield. Its pathetic, but he can't deal with Rachel. Not after the way they parted, or didn't part, or whatever.

Rachel drags her eyes from him, focuses on his daughter. He sighs in relief. His _precious_ little girl kicks him in the shin and demands to be put down. He thinks the kick is an accident. He puts her down. He backs a step, because following true to a 'Puckerman life philosophy' she tends to get violent.

"I know you," Sarah breaths. "You're in wicked! You're Rachel Berry!" She starts to jump up and down, blond hair flying.

Rachel smiles. "That's right. Has you're Dad taken you to see it."

She frowns, glares at him over her shoulder. Like he didn't just take her to a show. "No."

"Well," Rachel placates, "Did you know that I know your father from High School."

Sarah is practically drooling. Noah rolls his eyes.

"Yep we were in Glee together because of that I'm going to give you some tickets to see the show tonight." She lifts as Sarah dances. Rachel settles her eyes on Noah.

"Is that okay?"

Like he can say 'no' now. Sarah would kill him, or cry, and both would make his life short. "Yeah, it's fine." He shrugs.

"How many tickets, three?" She reaches into her bag. Is it possible she just carries extra tickets in her bag?

He shakes his head. "Um no just two."

"Mommy is on her honey moon with Daddy Finn," Sarah supplies knocking the conversation so far into awkward that Noah contemplates taping his daughter's mouth shut. "Daddy took me to New York while they're gone."

Rachel smiles. Noah can't read her expression. "Right, well that's Puckerman two." She writes it down. "Come to the box office and they'll be waiting for you."

With that she flounces away, or runs. Sarah squeals in delight the entire way back the hotel. Noah can't think of anything but her eyes, the new cut of her hair, the way she filled out her blouse. She was Rachel still, but something about her was different.

0o0o0o

The show is brilliant. Rachel is brilliant. Sarah stands and claps and Noah stands too, because really she's amazing. Afterward, as they're walking to the street corner somebody grabs his arm and pulls him just as he's getting into his cab. He almost balls his hand into a fist and swings. It's a good think he doesn't. It turns out to Rachel's assistant. She's invited them backstage.

He has to accept, for Sarah, and because he wants to see her again. Rachel is already out of costume and make up when he is dropped in front of her door. She steps out, smiles, and offers to take them to dinner. Noah is rushed back to high school as he looks at her. She's just the same, and he remembers their last talk, where she told him she loved him, where he told her she didn't.

They dine in a restaurant she picks. He finds himself laughing at her, with her. He enjoys her company and she seems to like his as well. At the end of the night Sarah falls asleep on his shoulder and Rachel walks with him back to their hotel. He wants to invite her up, but he won't. She looks like she wants him to ask, but she won't do it for him. He tells her bye. She smiles, kisses his cheek, too warm, too sweet, too familiar, and walks away.

He doesn't see her again for four months.

0o0o0o0

He can't stop thinking about her, about they way she looked on stage, her eyes, her life. If he considers it he's been thinking about her since he told her to leave. Since he lied to her and told her he didn't love her. He loved then, too much to make her stay in Lima.

He wants to call her, but he can't. He wants to tell her what he's been doing, that he did it because of her, but he can't.

0o0o0o0

It's at their Glee reunion that he sees her again. He usually skips it. Fraying work, or anything else to skip the gathering, but this time he thinks about Rachel, about the way she touched his hand in New York, the way she laughed, and he can't seem to stay away.

She's late, but the girl always loved to make an entrance. He waits until everyone has talked to her first before making his way to her side. He leans close to her ear and asks her if she wants a slushie. She swats him in the chest. He laughs. She smiles.

They leave together and he knows it's a mistake, but he doesn't care. The sex is great. It makes him remember. It makes him hurt. It makes him wish he'd never told her he didn't love her. It hurts all the more in the morning when she's gone.

0o0o0o0

Quinn slaps him around a little, tells him to quit moping, it's Christmas. She tells him he's depressing Sarah. He tries to smile after that. He doesn't want to make her sad, but its hard. All he can think about is her. Her skin, her lips, her smile, her voice, the way she breathed his name. He wants to tell her he was stupid, that he's ready now. He's ready for what he wasn't in High School. He's ready to love her, but it's too late. He's smart enough to know that.

0o0o0o0

She calls me two weeks later. He nearly falls over his couch to answer the phone because he put her number on a special ring tone. She just wants to talk. He wants to listen. They stay on the phone for hours.

0o0o0o0

He calls her every night. He wants to tell her he wants her.

0o0o0o0

She visits over Easter. The show is nearing an end. She's coming to visit her Fathers and he's just one of her stops. She stays an entire day. Sarah stays with Quinn. He worships her. She brings him to life. He almost tells her he needs her. That he loves her for all she knows, how she speaks, for forgiving him even if she never says so.

He's a coward. He lets her walk away without telling her. She comes to visit often, but he is too afraid to say it out loud so he tries to tell her with kisses, touches, actions, to notice him, to realize he loves her. He always has. He 's not surprised when she doesn't get the message. Berry has always been about words.

She leaves when her two month stay is over. She goes back to New York. Noah goes back to being depressed.

0o0o0o0

It's Finn who finally makes him realize he's being a pussy. He tells him to get off his ass and go find her. The big goofy football player is a part of his family now and he's telling the truth. Noah would hug him but it would probably make the giant cry. He tries to shake a hand, but Finn pulls him in, pats his back, cries, like a girl, before sending him off.

Noah finds her at her apartment. She's surprised. He's determined. He tells her everything. He tells her that he always loved her. He tells her that he loves her now. She slaps him. He blinks, too stunned to speak. She explains between gasping sobs that he's an idiot and they've wasted so much time. She kisses him. He forgives her for slapping his face.

0o0o0o0

She moves back to Lima. He offers to move to her. She tells him he can't leave his daughter. She takes a hiatus from Broadway. He's surprised that she doesn't miss it, so is she.

0o0o0o0

They get married on a Friday in November.

* * *

**If I said you had a beautiful Body -Conway Twitty**

He has this thing for cheesy country music. He doesn't have to explain it, or even admit to it, but it's there. He wishes it would go away. Sometimes he finds himself cruising the 'country' section at the music store and he has to buy something with a parental advisory on it to stop himself from feeling ashamed. It's one of those times that she catches him.

He's at the mall, by himself, on a weekday, so he figures he's safe. He's wrong because Rachel Berry is suddenly leaning over his shoulder and snorting indignantly at his selection. He can't blame her. It really is pathetic, but he pulls away, drops the CD like it's poison, and glares at her.

"I didn't know you liked country music." Rachel says smiling.

Noah clears his throat and decides to avoid the question. "Shouldn't you be in school?" He pushes past her, hoping she'll disappear. Just his luck she follows.

"No, I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon and Daddy had to get his suit from the tailor so I came along to save time." She follows him to the Rock section. He rifles through a few selections hoping to find something deplorable to get her mind off the Conway Twitty album he'd been holding. Explicit content, parental advisory, hell it would help if an alarm went off when he picked it up screaming that you had to be 18 in order to buy.

"If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me," She says and Puck drops the CD he's holding.

"What?" he asks forgetting to look for something to offend the wanna be diva.

"Conway Twitty," she says nodding toward the country section. "He sings that right?"

"Um," he frowns, "how should I know?"

"You were holding his CD." She points out patiently. "I saw you drop it when I scared you."

It's his turn to snort. "You didn't scare me. I knew you were there." It's a lie, but how is she going to prove otherwise.

She ignores his attempt at redirecting the conversation. "There is no reason to be ashamed. Country is a perfectly acceptable genre. I know how you feel though. I once got laughed at for bringing Barbara Streisand to a party."

There is no way the two of them are bonding over being losers. He's not a loser. She is. "Um, right, whatever. I've gotta go."

She doesn't follow, at first, and he almost regrets skipping school. The entire point was to be able to look and buy in peace, without being watched. She was ruining his day. She's right on his heels as he walks out the door. He's going home. His day is shot.

"I'll get it for you." She says.

He stops. "What are you talking about."

She shrugs. "If you want it. I'll buy it for you. I'm not embarrassed. If you hand me the money I'll go get the Twitty CD."

It's almost tempting. He wants it. He really does, but he'd have to admit to Berry that he wanted it. He turns give her a long suffering look. She shuffles dropping his gaze. That, at least, makes him feel better. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a twenty. "If you tell anyone," he threatens.

She nods, takes the money and disappears into the store. He tells her he'll meet her in the food court. He wants a milkshake and to be as far away from Berry as possible. She waves him off and heads to country. Puck watches her for only a moment before walking away. He's settled into a booth sipping his chocolate milkshake when she saunters up. She's swinging the bag back and forth, smiling, when she walks to him.

"Got it," she announces and hands him the bag. "The change is in the bag. I was right by the way."

Puck looks in the bag, satisfied and starts to count his change because he know it will make her mad. "About what?" he asks absently.

"The song." She says.

For once he actually needs more to go on. He can't remember every little thing they talked about earlier. It really just wasn't that interesting, plus he had his CD and a milkshake, and the rest of the day off. He was busy. "Huh," he mutters and shoves the change in his pocket.

"If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me," she breaths in exasperation.

He smirked looked up and raised a calculated brow. "You coming on to me Berry?"

She turns red, sputters, backs up. It was fun to watch. He took another swig of his milkshake. "Don't worry Berry it's hard to ignore my body. You're not the only one to want it held against them." He winks and takes a step toward her.

She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth. "You're a jerk." She announces and whirled around stalking back into the mall.

Puck watches her go, smirking. He was sure she'd keep silent about his musical choices, besides who would believe her. He turns toward the exit and starts toward his truck. Skipping school had, as always, been a good idea. He was stupid to think otherwise. He's gotten his song, ice cream, the day off, no football, no homework, and he managed to make the talking machine, Rachel Berry, speechless. All in all a good day.

* * *

**If I Could be Like That – 3 Doors Down**

He finally gets her, Rachel Berry that is. He gets her, or mostly he gets her. She's weird and crazy and sometimes she talks to much, but what she wants out of life isn't all that different from what he does. Well to back track a bit it is a little different. He has no desire to be on Broadway, or sing show tunes, or ever watch 'Rent', and just him knowing the movie is a testament to her influence on him, but he does want to get out. So does she. She doesn't want to stay in Lima, be forgotten, or worse than that remembered for what he was in High School

He has it better than she does. He's popular, more or less, even after he joining Glee. There was something to be said for a crazy eye and a loose moral standard when it came to fighting. He would kick ass, anyone's ass if they talked about him too much. Berry didn't have either luxury. Her legacy was the nerd brigade, and a steady stream of thrown slushies. He was the tormentor. She was the tormented. He was the king. She was the loser. So it was obvious why she wanted to leave Lima and be something else, but it wasn't obvious to why he wanted the same.

Believe it or not, he didn't want to remembered as the biggest asshole on campus. He wanted a football legacy but they sucked. He wanted popularity, but who really liked him and who was just afraid of him. He wanted to be remembered sure, but just like Berry he didn't want to be remember for what he was. He was sure, just like her, that he was more. So he wanted out as well. He wanted to leave because Lima wasn't big enough for what he was about to be. Rachel understood that, whether or not it was true was another thing, but she understood, and because of that he had her figured out.

He wondered sometimes what it would be like to be her. Well to be himself with her relentless determination. He smirks because he would be one scary badass.

* * *

**I did cheat. I didn't quit when the song was over. Oh well. It was hard enough to end them where I did. I wanted to write more. Tell me what you think. Please review!**


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